Legolas' Loss
by Name Changer
Summary: A reason why Legolas never showed much love for anyone in Tolkien’s LOTR trilogy: it’s before the time frame when Legolas joined the fellowship. Also, (at least I think) it’s going to be very sad somewhere near the end of it. Please review!
1. A Sense of Tranquility

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of it's characters.  
  
  
  
Legolas' Loss  
  
By: Spirit_Saviour  
  
  
  
The trees musically rustled in the breeze, and the partly cloudy skies added a sense of serenity to the land. Legolas Greenleaf, immortal elven Prince of Mirkwood, sat demurely underneath the leaves of a very old evergreen tree. At the age of 95, Legolas looked- and felt, as young and as vibrant as an energetic youth. His straight light honey hair was pulled back from his face behind his delicate leaf shaped ears, and clear gray eyes were closed with white alabaster skin.  
  
Resting his slender body onto the lush, healthy grass relaxed the prince from his long hard day of training…his bow and quiver of arrows lay forgotten on a boulder. Middle Earth's power-hungry creatures had decayed its beauty, and many small bands of orcs, trolls, and goblins roamed the land, feasting on innocent bystanders, reveling in the fear and destruction they caused. Peace was never going to be an objective for his world.  
  
A gust of cool air rushed passed Legolas' elvish clothing and body, soothing and caressing his soul. His mind soon wandered away from the dark thoughts, and remembered the times when he was just a child and had received his first bow. His father King Thranduil was very proud of Legolas' skills, and many a joyful times were spent in his father's presence.  
  
Smiling to himself, with his eyes still closed, Legolas softly hummed a merry tune, written by his elven friend Salmas. His voice was refreshingly enchanting, and a creature could spend months listening to his melodies.  
  
The clouds turned orange, as the sun slowly slipped from the sky.  
  
Legolas had fallen asleep with a smile on his lips.  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Hello, this is the start of my 3rd fanfic about my favorite elf. I know it's very short, this chapter, but enjoy! 


	2. A Specter in the Dark

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of it's characters.  
  
  
  
Legolas' Loss  
  
By: Spirit_Saviour  
  
  
  
Night fell, and the cold air turned into a fury of freezing daggers. The sky was sprinkled with millions upon millions of glittering stars, and the moon proudly hung from her post.  
  
Legolas woke up with a startled yelp. Had he fallen asleep? Apparently he had, and the elf quickly gathered his senses. He needed to get back to the palace, or his parents would be worried about him- especially his father. So, nimbly forcing himself to rise from his comfortable position, Legolas grabbed his bow and arrows, and silently, so silently that his footsteps didn't even make a sound, walked towards the path which would take him home.  
  
Blood rushed to his head seconds after he started walking, and his vision blurred for a moment, causing him to pause. The bushes nearby rustled, alerting the elf that someone, or something, was nearby. But Legolas' eyesight was still cloudy, and when a figure quickly darted across his path, all that he could make out of it was a slender lithe form with long light hair shimmering behind it.  
  
Startled by the recent occurrence, Legolas cleared his head, allowing his keen eyes to adjust to the darkness. Now what- no who, was that? He could still see the figure, running with the wind and agility of a deer. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he silently followed the specter. 


	3. Light

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of its characters. (and I know my disclaimers are boring)  
  
  
  
Legolas' Loss  
  
By: Spirit_Saviour  
  
  
  
A pair of glittering gray eyes peered through the thick bushes which hid its presence. So this was the creature that had caught his attention…it was stunning.  
  
Wearing a silver gossamer cloak, and not many feet away, stood a tall shapely female elf. Her snow-white hair and violet eyes glowed with mischief and joy, and her beauty outshone the moon itself.  
  
"Akiads deasm lesed sacka geas." (Earth grant me your grace) The voice flowed over to Legolas, pure and full of life. It made his heart beat faster, and feel as if his spirit had anticipated something to happen. It did.  
  
Beams of white light shot down from the star-lit night, until it reached the elven maiden. Surrounding her, they danced as her laughter filled the air like tiny silver bells. A bright ball of light formed between her fingers until it became so intense that Legolas had to close his eyes.  
  
When the prince peeked through one of his eyelids to see if the light had died down– and it had –he suddenly gasped. Another pair of curious shimmering eyes stared back at him. And only a few inches away from his face.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
The question, coming from the mysterious maiden, pricked at Legolas' flawless pride. Didn't she know?  
  
"I am Prince Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood," he replied, a little bit too arrogantly.  
  
"Well then. Greetings, Prince Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood, I am Dalia."  
  
Dalia…It was a very bizarre name for an elf.  
  
"Might I ask you what you are doing on my father's private hunting grounds, Dalia?"  
  
"These are your father's lands, elf? I did not know! And I also did not know, that his son wandered around at night, spying on harmless innocents," she retorted heatedly, a short temper evident after being disturbed.  
  
At this comment, pale cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He hadn't expected such an answer and shamefully stepped out from the screen of bushes.  
  
Straightening up to his full height, Legolas stood almost three inches taller then Dalia.  
  
"How do I know that you're harmless, Lady. I am a prince, and look after my future people. You could be one of our enemy's servant, and that thing you held between your fingers–"  
  
"That THING was none of your business, prince, and never will be." Her violet eyes filled with annoyance. She would've expected much more politeness from royalty, not the haughty rude stare she received from this "boy".  
  
Dalia did have to admit that his gray eyes, sunshine hair, and handsome features had caught her attention, but what did he understand about life, its essence…its beauty…–the light.  
  
For the nineteen years she had lived, most of that time was spent running. Running away from her family, friends, and everything else she held dear to her heart. Except for the light.  
  
The light filled her with hope and gave her strength. I had even turned her raven black hair into a glowing snow-white, and she revered it.  
  
Legolas glared at the elf maiden and wished she'd leave. She was impolite, extremely volatile, but excitingly enchanting. Though the white hair could not be explained, he knew she was but in the early years of her adulthood.  
  
Clearing her throat after an unsettling period of silence, Dalia tossed her head back and started walking in the opposite direction of Legolas without another word.  
  
"Wait, where are you going?" Legolas hastily asked. The thought of her leaving and never seeing her smile or laughter again made panic rise from the pit of his stomach. What was he doing? Didn't he WANT her to go away?  
  
Startled by the question, Dalia turned around.  
  
**Nowhere, anywhere, away from here. Can you tell me?**  
  
"It's none of your business."  
  
Looking for words which would cause her to stay a little bit longer, "I still don't know if you're an enemy," was all that he could think of.  
  
"You know that I'm not, prince. So leave me alone."  
  
Turning around again, Legolas watched as Dalia slowly picked her way across a vast field of spring flowers. It was as if a piece of his heart was being ripped away from his body the farther away this Lady became…strange as it was.  
  
Anguish and heartache hungrily ate at his spirit. She was just someone he had met in a field, wasn't she? The earth oddly rumbled beneath his feet. It was probably a heard of deer migrating South, but a barbaric savage language had drifted towards his keen ears.  
  
Orcs.  
  
  
  
  
  
Authors Notes: This may stink, but here is my third chapter. Legolas may seem a little conceited…mean, but his attitude will change later on in this story. 


	4. "I'm immortal, so why?"

Disclaimer:  
  
Mean Man: Say it! Say it!  
  
Spirit_Saviour: No, I will not!  
  
Mean Man: Say it, or else!  
  
Spirit_Saviour: Okay! Okay! I'll say it! I do not own…this web site! *muahahaha*  
  
Mean Man: Stop this right now! *grabs a nearby arm and twists it*  
  
Spirit_Saviour: Ow! Let go! I'll say it, so calm down. *Mean Man lets go of arm* Psyche!  
  
Mean Man: Arghhhhhhh! You bit me! *holds up a now bleeding arm* I'll get you for this!  
  
Spirit_Saviour: Oh yeah? HOW? *crackles loudly*  
  
Mean Man: You give me no choice then, because if you do not say that you don't own Lord of the Rings or any of its characters, then I'll curse you with…The Writers Block…  
  
Spirit_Saviour: Nooooooooooooooo! Fine, if that how you want it, then: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of it characters. Are you happy with my disclaimer?  
  
Very Very Mean Man: Yes.  
  
  
  
Disclaimer (Again, you know, just encase): I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of its characters.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Legolas' Loss  
  
By: Spirit_Saviour  
  
  
  
"Mother." Spoke a child, basking in the attention of its caretaker.  
  
"Yes Legolas?"  
  
"If I were in danger, what would you do?"  
  
"Well, I would save you from that danger and even risk my life in the process if it was necessary."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I love you."  
  
"But what if I were to be a stranger?"  
  
Pausing at this question, the queen soaked herself beneath the night's glorious gaze. Legolas was always a very curious elf. "That is a very hard question to comment upon, and I have not the answer. But I do know, that if your heart and conscience desires it, you should do the best you can to help that person."  
  
"Okay mother."  
  
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Glancing at Dalia, Legolas noted that she too had sensed the danger, and was looking with pleading eyes at him for help. Defenseless and inexperienced in the art of war, speed alone couldn't outrun a party of wild orcs.  
  
So, fleetingly sprinting over to the elf maiden, he seized his bow and positioned an arrow at the first visible mass of armor. Loosening his fingers he heard a small gasp emit from behind him after a loud crack concluded that his target was dead. When his quiver was empty, the only weapon he had left was an elven sword crafted by himself and as long as his arm.  
  
Sweat ran down Legolas' temples as he thrust his deadly companion into the chest of a nearby orc, and leaped away when a barbaric pike passed by his head only inches away.  
  
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1 Twenty-five down, two more to go…  
  
Facing the next orc, Legolas froze as an ear splitting scream pierced the air- Dalia. There weren't two orcs left, there were three. Releasing a frustrated cry, he savagely killed the surviving invaders and ran over to where Dalia lay.  
  
Dark red blood poured from her right side and pooled into a messy puddle on the cool green grass. Pulling her into his lap, the tired elf ripped a piece of cloth off from his tunic and tried to stop the bleeding. Terror and dismay frayed the edges of his nerves somehow. That was odd, he wasn't afraid of anything, he was immortal.  
  
Suspicious rustling from bushes a few feet away caused Legolas to quickly get up and ready his sword.  
  
"Legolas, there you ar- What happened!?" Came the melodious voice of his friend Thorack. All about this confused elf, dwelt the horrific aftermath of Legolas' battle.  
  
Help me take this maiden to my father's city, and then we shall talk about it."  
  
Looking towards his friend's voice, he saw Legolas once again kneel by a beautiful female's side.  
  
"Here, I can use some of the powers I have to stop the bleeding and seal the wound, but it'll only last a couple minutes." Thorack held his hands over Dalia's wound and in a flash, what he had promised was done.  
  
The two elves then picked up the unconscience body and silently carried it towards Mirkwood's heart.  
  
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"Legolas? Legolas? Is that you? My goodness, you're caked in blood and dirt. Let me get you a new change of clothes." Scurrying over to the prince's wardrobe, Legolas' nurse Starlit pulled out a clean tunic, a pair of leggings, and soft leather shoes. Turning around, Starlit waited as her "baby elfie" got dressed. At sixty, Starlit's black hair had turned into a shimmering gray. But despite this flaw, her smooth skin and blue eyes were as lovely as the spring.  
  
After the prince had finished, he silently washed his face and hands, ridding all traces of a life/death situation from himself.  
  
"Your mother and father request your presence in the dining hall Legolas. I suggest that you get going soon, they were also worried about you like I wa- . Oh nevermind." Ended an ignored nurse. Legolas was already gone.  
  
************************  
  
Walking through the beautifully lit halls, Legolas carried the bow he had used earlier and a new quiver of arrows over his shoulder.  
  
What was wrong with him? He had asked himself this question over and over again after reluctantly giving Dalia to some common elves who would do their best to heal her.  
  
A feeling of panic and dread had clouded his thoughts ever since had met this strange elf. He was immortal, wasn't he? No one could kill him, and he never had to fear or even tremble, like he had today. Until now.  
  
Except, Legolas wasn't the one who was in danger. It was Dalia. Her violet eyes held a mystic storm full with angry purple clouds and white light, represented by her hair, would once in a while flash in dispute. Experiencing Dalia's anger itself felt like being caught in the eye of some unknown storm He had known this ever since sensing her annoyance.  
  
Also, some kind of power resided inside her soul. Something that even the best scholars in the whole of Middle-Earth would not be able to explain . What was she?  
  
Turning a corner, Legolas noted that he was almost nearing the Dining Hall, and went back to his thoughts. Day and night were all the same to him, because disturbed feelings were not included. Of coarse, he would occasionally worry for his family when he or they were away, but all royalty were immortals, like him. Dalia had changed something inside of him and he would find out.  
  
Suddenly stopping in front of a skillfully carved door, Legolas placed his fingers on the warm handle, and tugged lightly at the wood. A small click acknowledged his presence.  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Yes, my these are my notes. I don't have any though, except for the few words that I am typing down right now. Okay? Oh! Also, please review! I'd like to know how many people are reading my story, and if it'd be worth continuing writing it. 


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